


Dollhouse

by Bunnylucifer



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 07:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6365395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnylucifer/pseuds/Bunnylucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dollhouse is a small strip bar and restaurant in Kansas. The dolls spend most of their days inside the Dollhouse, and don't have much of a life outside of it. Their boss abuses them and only gives them minimum wage, but everyone is too afraid to leave, because he has threatened to hunt the girls down if they try to run away. Deanna, one of the more popular dolls in the Dollhouse, plans to get out at the end of the month anyway. She has a perfect plan, and the execution has been flawless so far, and Deanna really can see the light at the end of the tunnel. But all of that changes when a new recruit comes in, and Deanna is chosen to train her. (Inspired by Melanie Martinez's album, "Crybaby").</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dollhouse

Deanna finished practicing her routine by “accidentally” dropping her little maid’s feather duster, and doing a cute little bend-over so that the Boss could see her little ruffled panties underneath her skirt (which was too short to cover anything). The Boss clapped a little too enthusiastically, grinning wide at Deanna’s performance. “Wonderful,” he said, striding up and onto the stage to pat Deanna on the back so hard that she felt like one of her bones might break. Perhaps that was just the corset that dug into her skin like a bra that was two sizes too small. “Maybe you could, I don’t know, linger on that final move?” His order was masked as a suggestion. Deanna nodded, smiling her winning smile that almost always got her what she wanted. And right now, she wanted the Boss to get the hell away from her.

“Of course, Boss. Whatever you say,” she said, winking. Thirty-one more days, she told herself as the Boss walked away. Thirty-one more days. You can do this, Deanna. You made it this far. She looked at the clock on the wall, just above the exit. It read 5:00. Her show was in a half an hour. No time to eat. She sighed, walking offstage and heading down the dark, black lit hallway to the dressing rooms. The reason that they were black lit was so that the audience couldn’t see what was going on backstage, keeping the focus on the dancer or dancers onstage and in the audience.

Deanna shut the door as quietly as she could when she stepped inside, not wanting to disturb anyone’s afternoon nap. A few of the other girls sat lounging about and chatting quietly, so as not to wake Anna and Naomi's sleeping forms on the couch. Deanna spotted Jo sitting on the counter in her usual cowgirl getup. See, the term “doll” was used to mean “perfection” or “fantasy.” Jo would be a cowgirl fantasy this evening, Deanna would be a maid, and so on and so forth for every doll in the Dollhouse. It gave the dolls a chance to be creative. Jo noticed Deanna, and waved her over in a friendly manner. Deanna approached Jo as quickly as she could with the corset still constricting her.

“Hey, D!” Jo said, fist-bumping Deanna. Deanna leaned on the counter, grimacing.

“Could you get this thing off of me? My show’s in half an hour and I don’t think I can wait through the whole routine to take it off,” said Deanna, gesturing to her corset. Jo’s hands swiftly loosened the laces on Deanna’s back, and Deanna put her arms over her head as Jo pulled the evil corset off of her. Deanna sighed in relief. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” said Jo, rubbing Deanna’s back out of sympathy. “Maybe we could get you some moleskine for the edges or something?”

“Or just tie it loosely,” Deanna said, glaring at the garment in question. “Before the Dollhouse, I used to think that corsets were fun and sexy…”

“And now you know that they’re awful!” 

“Now I know that they’re awful,” Deanna confirmed. A small laugh came from the group of girls to their right, startling little Anna out of her sleep. She looked around, frightened, not recognizing her surroundings, and Deanna took that as her cue to go and comfort Anna. She sat down, careful to avoid Naomi’s legs, and pulled Anna into a hug, waiting until the little whimpers died down to just shivers. Deanna softly hummed the intro to “Stairway to Heaven,” as a lullaby, not because she particularly liked the song, but because it was a soft melody that everyone recognized. Anna relaxed in Deanna’s embrace as Deanna began singing softly. 

“There’s a lady who’s sure, all that glitters is gold, and she’s buying the stairway to Heaven…”

***

Deanna strutted out and onto the stage proudly, making sure to sway her hips ever so slightly with every step. Black, six inch fuck-me pumps made Deanna feel like a giraffe, and she was already a few inches over the average height for white women. Being 5’7” and wearing six inch heels put Deanna at around 6’, give or take an inch, and that three inch height difference made Deanna feel like she could see for miles. She strutted, undulated, and twisted to the beat of the music roaring in her ears.

Deanna stepped off of the stage and into the audience, looking for an eager audience member. She spotted a young man seated at one of the front tables, and strode over to him, watching his eyes light up with surprise and then darken with lust. Deanna smiled and gently tickled the feather duster on the man’s chest, moving it down, down, down, and stopping just before she hit his crotch. He watched her, his excited breaths and nervous smile giving her encouragement. She settled herself on his lap, feeling the ruffles of her skirt brushing against the man’s legs. He gazed up at her with wide eyes as she put her hands on his chest, trailing them down to his hips. Deanna rolled her hips slightly, waiting for the next beat change that would cue her back to the stage for her final little bend-over.

She heard the beat change and slipped off of the man’s lap just as he slipped a five-dollar bill into her waistband. She winked at him and stepped back onto the stage, swaying her hips as she pretended to walk off in a normal exit. She “dropped” her duster, slowly bent over, and picked up the duster again, managing to get backstage just as her song stopped. Hoots and hollers followed Deanna backstage, and she tucked the five-dollar bill into her corset before hurriedly making her way back to the dressing rooms. She entered just as Jo was exiting, and Deanna punched her shoulder playfully. “Break a leg out there,” she whispered. 

“Thanks,” Jo whispered back.

***

Deanna clocked in as a regular doll waitress at 6:00 on the dot. Every doll had to clock in at least five hours of waitress work every day, and Deanna had three more to go. The waitress costumes had little to no variation: smooth and shiny skin, large eyes, small and perfect lips, thigh-high stockings, penny loafers, and a short, ruffled dress. Deanna never understood how people actually enjoyed being served by a living, breathing porcelain doll, but as long as there were customers, Deanna didn’t care. She would be leaving at the end of the month, anyway. She headed over to a group of guys that had just been seated, ready to take their drink order. Thirty-one more days.

***

At 9:00, Deanna clocked out after another mundane shift at the restaurant. The Boss approached her, and Deanna braced herself for bad news. “What’s up, Boss?” She asked, trying to sound cheerful.  
“We’ve got a new recruit,” said the Boss, puffing out his chest. Deanna felt an angry twist in her gut. That poor girl.

“Oh,” said Deanna. “That’s wonderful.” As she turned the leave, the Boss grabbed her arm, and Deanna halted.

“We’ve got a new recruit,” repeated the Boss, “and you’re going to whip her into shape.” Deanna’s heart stopped. No. He wouldn’t. Everything was going so well, she didn't understand, where did she go wrong-

Deanna cleared her throat. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve got an apprentice, Deanna! Training starts tomorrow, so get some rest,” said the Boss in a sickeningly sweet voice. He let go of Deanna’s arm and walked past her as she stood still, frozen. Just like that, everything she’d built up over the years, everything she’d done to plan her escape had been shattered into little pieces, and it was all Deanna could do to not cry, drop to the floor, and try to pick up the shards.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first ever chapter here on AO3, so let me know honestly how I'm doing! I'd love some constructive criticism! I know it's a little short, but I promise that later entries will be much, much bigger!


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